Conversations
by klim
Summary: Kurt and Blaine meet once again in the future. Born into a society that has degraded its values, follow them through their quintessential moments of life as they become young men and become swept up in the tidal shifts of the universe.
1. Birth

Kurt's birth was long overdue but when the time came it was unexpected, fair-haired, and went by the name of Blaine.

A boy not yet twelve but too old to be eleven reclined on a stone bench in his family's garden. The tall hedges of the labyrinth did little to stop the cold winter winds from invading his corner. If the boy had his eyes open, he would see gray storm clouds darkening the paths crisscrossing in front of him. He kept his eyes closed in an attempt to repress these choices presented. One path could lead to the manor, another to a cliff-face and the sea below, and any one of them could lead farther into the labyrinth. The boy was frightened by the prospect of delving deeper into this unfamiliar world, especially in such unforgiving weather; he had not spent much time outside.

At that moment the boy's body was freezing, numb in fact. Any moment now he expected his fragile heart to lose the fight against the clench of winter's fist but he was too bored with the daily monotony of growing up to move.

Footsteps to his right became louder and through a gritty, half opened eye he saw the yellow tunic of a child not quite his height. The newcomer crouched down to the boy's eye level; his dark curly locks were buffeted by the wind and obscured much of his face.

"Come with me," said the intruder as he grabbed the boys hand. Stumbling over his feet, which had never been used for running, he let the boy lead him to a few false stops before they came out the opposite end of the labyrinth. Even this far away, he could see his family's mansion looming over the hedges. He was really cold now and wished he had resisted the boy's pull from his somewhat warm cocoon in the corner.

The intruder was now standing on the edge of the cliff the maze led to. With his arms spread wide and his tunic billowing, the boy looked like a baby eagle ready to take his first flight.

The boy turned around and smiled at him, "Someday we are going to build wings and catch a warm draft off this cliff. We will soar through the thick clouds and see the sun!"

This child was very odd and the chilled boy took a moment to gather an appropriate response for the strange situation. Finally he countered, "Or we could wait for a cloudless and warm day to see the sun."

"Where is the adventure in that Kurt? I want to be free!"

The boy named Kurt paused from surprise. "How do you know my name?"

"Well someone has to." The intruder nodded to himself as if finding his answer acceptable and then turned back to the cloudy sky and murky ocean. Kurt came up beside him, shivering as he was rocked by gusts of wind coming off the churning ocean.

"Do you have a name?" Kurt asked politely.

"Of course I do! Who does not?"

"People with parents who forget to name their children. So?" retorted Kurt.

"So?"

"Your name?"

"Blaine, you know that!" Surprised, Kurt realized that somehow he did; a part of his soul had been awakened. In the dead of winter a feeble but stubborn flower blossomed; how could it know that this was not its time because it has been sheltered by the smothering soil in seasons past. Kurt felt kindred toward the boy before him; Blaine was the air and the sun that welcomed his flower into the harsh reality.

Kurt took his first deep breath of the ocean air and thought maybe he could soar and touch the sun; just like Blaine wanted.


	2. Youth Part 1

"Come on Kurt!"

Two fair haired youth pushed past beaded curtains, flamboyantly died clothes, and twinkling strings of lights. Laughter and joyous conversation from passing holiday makers and fun seekers swerved between the cloths, beads, lights, and wrapped around the smiling boys.

"I am always following you Blaine!" said the princelier of the two boys.

"Soon it will be the other way around," called back his impish friend.

"Riddles! That is all you speak in! Where are we going?"

"To see a friend."

"At the fair?"

"Is it so wrong to have friends outside of the Court's approved social circle?"

Blaine ducked under an old rug hanging off the entrance of a tent. A heady floral scent clogged the boys' noses. Blaine dragged his friend into the stuffy tent to sit before a wizened fortune teller lazily smoking a hookah pipe.

"Good afternoon Lady Cain," said a chipper Blaine while guiding Kurt to sit among the pillows. Meanwhile, Kurt fought the drowsy effects of the incense burning around him.

"My little chitterbit, what brings you out to the Grounds this late? Your uncle will be very displeased that you are missing dinner," admonished the old woman as she set down her pipe.

Gesturing to his friend Blaine said, "Would you read Kurt's fortune please? I am planning a great adventure with him." Kurt glanced questioningly at Blaine. "I am positive he is the one to lead it, I just need him to be certain of it too."

Lady Cain reached across her overstuffed silk pillows and grabbed Kurt's chin, forcing him to look into her sunken, battish eyes. She nodded, as if satisfied with what she saw in him, a move reminiscent of the first time Kurt had met Blaine. Kurt wondered how long Blaine had known the old gypsy woman.

"Come closer boy; show me your working hand and leading foot."

Confused by these instructions Kurt turned to Blaine for guidance. His friend whispered, "The hand you write with and your dominant foot."

Kurt tentatively held out the offending appendages to have them snatched by the clawed fingers of Lady Cain. The two boys sat in silence while she traced the lines on Kurt's limbs and muttered to herself. Like all young boys who are bubbly and impatient, Blaine finally broke the silence with a long suffering sigh.

"I am a tool of melodrama," scolded the old woman upon Blaine making his impatience known, "My purpose is to foreshadow a future and leave out the crucial plot twist. You already know the end for this story Blaine!" Her voice steadily rose in pitch. "Stand by your friend, reveal to him the asphyxiating murmurings of hope. Now go, before your uncle has my head and the Grounds burned!" Lady Cain then fell into her mountain of pillows and wailed dramatically to seal the effect.

Frightened, the two friends jumped to their feet and ran from the carnival grounds, ignoring the smiles, laughter, and exotic scents that had tried to seduce them earlier. The carnival spilled out into a barley field, the stalks taller than the boys' line of sight. The crop whipped their hair as they ran toward the rotting fence on the far end of the field. Kurt stumbled over a loose rock, grabbed Blaine, and pulled the other boy to the earth.

"Why did you not you consult me?" asked Kurt as he rolled off Blaine's back and splayed out on the dusty clay.

"Because I would have gotten the same result either way. You have followed me since your birth."

"I did not know you when I was an infant!"

"We have many different births Kurt. I came at your most important one."

"Why are you always so enigmatic? It is like you know our whole story before I have lived it! Can we not just fly away and live our lives without anyone dictating the plot!"

Blaine smiled knowingly, like he always did, and threw a dirt clot at Kurt's chest. "Why do you think I am having you lead it?" Blaine yelled as he ran away from the mess now obscuring Kurt's vision.

Kurt ran blindly through the dust cloud, covering his eyes to avoid the stinging particles. At the edge of the field he stopped and looked around for his friend, who was now only a shadow flickering between the yellow light of the lampposts and candles in shop windows. Kurt ran to catch up with Blaine, never leaving the lighted sidewalks to make sure he kept his footing.


	3. Youth Part 2

The summery, humid weather at the Capitol was overshadowed by a sickly grey sky that reminded Kurt of the scratchy tickling of an oncoming sore throat. Kurt's father had just relocated to a fortress like complex on top of the hill where all government buildings resided. The complex was across the bay from the main city section of the capitol of the Society, aptly named the Capitol. The grey and brown office buildings that had been hastily erected half a century previously, blended into the skyline. If Kurt unfocused his eyes just enough, it appeared as though the waves in the bay crashed against the sky rather than the dilapidated boardwalk.

Kurt had spent his second morning in the Capitol brooding. His head rested on the pale stucco railing of the balcony attached to his room. The black tile floors had heated up as the sun reached its apogee through the cloud cover, smothering the people below in a blanket of sticky heat.

Kurt felt like molasses under the oppressive weather. Time seemed to pass more slowly in the Capitol, the people more antiquated and lazy than the vibrant and glittery nobility of the Court. Instead of the bright and energetic young boy of yesterday, Kurt felt like it would not take him forever to slip out of the canning jar. Kurt knew these were silly thoughts; should events happen or people require his presence he would readily be active but for now his sweaty body melding to the balcony railing like the sickly sweet sludge it was emulating.

"I cannot get my clothes on!" said a voice behind Kurt. He whipped around to see Blaine robed in an electric blue bed sheet. "I was checking out the swimming pool and when I dried off my body was too sticky from the humidity. My clothes rolled up on my skin." Blaine explained this as he shrugged the sheet off his shoulders and secured it around his waist.

"That was a rather unwise decision. If you wait just a moment, I believe I can help you," said Kurt as he excused himself from Blaine's presence for a moment.

He returned from his room with a shimmery gold tunic and maroon sash. "It is always warmer at the Capitol. You need to dress for the weather." Kurt handed the clothing to his friend and dragged him into the bathroom to change.

"Why did not you tell me this before we moved here?"

"I was just as unprepared. Remember, I did not expect this move but I, unlike you, have not been living out of my suitcase for the past day. Taking the liberty to explore earlier, I found appropriate garments in my closet." Kurt said while giving Blaine a pointed look.

Kurt picked up Blaine's sheet, which had been flung to the floor as he changed. He turned around to see his friend attempting to tie the sash below his hips. Kurt took the sash out of Blaine's hands and looped it around his waist in a secure knot.

"If you get into a fight in the city, your attacker will most likely use the knot of your sash as a target. You really do not want to tie it too low." Blaine grimaced at the implications. "At least around your waist you can focus the muscles and prevent injury." Kurt explained as he tied the sash.

"So, I do not plant to participate in any fights." Blaine whined.

"You never know. The city is a lot rougher than the Court."

"The shining jewel of the Society is but a diamond in the rough!"

"I just want you to be safe." Kurt stood up straight and looked his friend in the eyes.

"I am safe, we are both safe. We have a security detail trailing us everywhere we go!"

"They are only there to protect me…" Kurt whispered.

"They do not deem a Senator's nephew important enough to protect?"

"Not particularly. Senators may have terms for life but the people vote for them. Prime Ministers are chosen by familial succession. I am the next and only person currently deemed an heir to the throne. If I die, the Society will descend into chaos and have to change its entire structure." Kurt took a deep breath before adding. "I cannot be with you all the time."

"So I should be careful." Blaine concluded.

"I know your nature tends to lean towards reckless and slightly insane but should something happen to you, should you die, then I do not see any other option but to terminate my own life for I will have failed you as a friend."

Kurt fell to the bathroom floor upon his confession, taking deep breaths to come under control again. Blaine kneeled on the floor beside his dearest friend.

"Do not say that; do not ever threaten to kill yourself because of me. I am not worth all the good you can do for the universe."

In between short, forced breathes, Kurt said, "You are! You are worth so much more than the universe itself!"

Blaine slapped his friend across the face. "That is the most selfish thing you have ever said. Do you know the kind of responsibility you place on me? I cannot be myself without knowing that anything I do could cause your death. I cannot care for you."

Kurt stared at him with wide eyes, tear tracks cracking his porcelain cheeks, and lips repeatedly whispering apologies. Realizing the broken state of his friend, that had only been made worse by his outburst, Blaine scooped the lighter boy into his arms and brought Kurt to his bed. Joining Kurt on the bed, Blaine began humming a lullaby he had heard the old Gypsy woman at the fair sing many years ago. Kurt rested his head on Blaine's shoulder as he was lulled to sleep.

"Everything will look better in the morning." Blaine sighed as he finished humming.

He hugged his delicate friend. Blaine was the last line of defense against the dangers that plotted to kill Kurt and take down the Society; thus Blaine was the last line of defense for the hopes and aspirations of its citizens. He could handle that responsibility but the responsibility of being the only thing that could destroy Kurt was entirely too much.


	4. Youth Part 3

The second summer the boys spent at the Capitol was unusually dry. Hot air blasted across their faces at every inopportune moment, scratching its way across their once smooth skin and leaving its mark. Kurt and Blaine had spent most of the summer in the boxy gardens of the complex, under the thin protection of bone dry trees and guarded walls.

Blaine was restless, Kurt was content, and thus it was natural that they sneak out of the complex one morning. It was rather easy; the guards' purpose was to keep people out, not keep them in, even though the complex often felt like a jail.

Kurt and Blaine traversed their way through the backstreets of the many government buildings on the hill. They greeted various dignitaries and officials as they passed them. The boys reached the ocean boardwalk by late morning. Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and dragged him in the direction of downtown, stopping intermittently to admire window displays of shiny trinkets and sugary treats.

As the afternoon sun took its position at the apex of the sky, the heat wafting from the wooden planks of the street wrapped its silky tendrils around the two friends. The boys had traveled farther down the boardwalk than they had visited on past, supervised visits. The tone of the boardwalk had changed; it was no longer lighthearted and familial. Shopkeepers and vendors seemed more desperate and the people on the street were unhappy. No one laughed here.

A girl in a gauzy floral dress glided from the shadows and stopped in front of them. She eyed up Kurt's lithe form but was displeased so she settled for Blaine.

"Will you come have tea with me?" the girl inquired while preemptively grabbing Blaine's hand and pulling him back toward the shadows. The action caused a dress strap to fall off her shoulder, exposing more tanned skin than was necessary.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand as an anchor but the girl's insistent tugging was too strong and both boys found themselves being pulled toward the small apartment hidden in the seductively menacing shade of much larger surrounding buildings. "Sure we will, but I do not usually go around having tea with people whose names I do not know," replied Blaine when the surprise from the girl's forwardness was replaced with coherent thought.

"You can call me Selene," the girl said as she fished a dainty key out of the stained pocket on her gossamer dress.

Selene opened the door to the small dwelling. Low light from behemoth candles spread itself around the room and fought back against the shadows that crept in through the windows. Kurt and Blaine were forced onto a leather couch that stuck uncomfortably to their heated skin. When Selene was satisfied with how she had positioned the two friends, she floated to her tiny excuse for a kitchen to prepare the tea.

"We should leave," whispered Kurt fiercely, "We do not know this girl nor what she wants out of us."

"Of course we know Selene, she told us her name and that she wants company for tea," replied Blaine.

"This does not feel right. I am leaving," Kurt said as he tried to pry his sweaty skin from the unforgiving leather.

"Please stay, it is only tea," begged Blaine.

"Tea can lead to many other things."

"Like pleasant conversation."

"Or other things," Kurt reiterated.

"I do not understand why you are acting this way. The purpose of the universe and its inhabitants is not to destroy you. Why can't we take the time to meet someone new? I'm curious about her," Blaine whispered harshly.

"We'll I am not curious. I am never been a very inquisitive person," Kurt sighed. He tiptoed through the maze of candle light and back to the door.

"Then maybe you should change," Blaine said, the venomous undertone dripping off his lips. Blaine had never spoken so harshly to Kurt. The insulted party stared in shock at Blaine; a sharp gasp flew from his lips and stabbed Blaine in the heart.

"Maybe, or maybe we both need to," Kurt said, returning the venom to Blaine but with halfhearted potency.

Kurt opened the door and stepped outside. He took one last look into the apartment; Selene was slipping out of the kitchen with only two cups of a vivid red tea. Her translucent dress clung to her body, the candles in the room revealing every stain and tear in stark detail. From his vantage point, Kurt could not differentiate if these were flaws in Selene's dress of in her character but he did not feel safe in the present situation to stay and find out. Blaine looked up at Selene confused, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips drawn tight. Selene responded with a look Kurt had only seen on the face of cheap whores and politicians; her eyes were but slits and her mouth tilted in a smirk.

Kurt closed the door in order to see no more. He stepped out of the shadows and walked back up the boardwalk, toward the hill and home.

Kurt settled into bed early, before the sun had even set, but he did not sleep. He laid there for hours waiting for any sign that Blaine would not be trapped by the shadows and that girl forever.

Blaine made his presence known a few hours after the sun had set and the world had cooled. He sat at the foot of Kurt's bed, legs splayed on both sides and eyes dazed. "I wish you would have stayed" said Blaine.

"I do not think I could have stood being around Selene for an afternoon," retorted Kurt, "There does not seem to be much depth to her character."

Blaine ignored the jab and instead focused his energy on lying down comfortably but ended up with his head hanging upside down over the foot of the bed. "When can we sneak out again?" he asked.

"Are not you the master planner of our adventures? Should not you be giving me a knowing smirk and telling me something cryptic before whisking me away?" questioned Kurt.

"I don't know! It is like my mind is empty. I do not want to plan things anymore, I do not want to think," whined Blaine.

As clear as if Blaine passed a torch to him, Kurt knew what they must do next. It was quite an overwhelming feeling, like a stampede of voices, dreams, ideas, and hopes rushing upward from his heart. He wondered how Blaine had managed to manage this exhilaration for so long; Kurt wants to run out and do something, anything. Sitting still was much too hard but he now realized that it was necessary for the moment. The universe was calling to him and he would greet it but first he had to drag Blaine along.


	5. Teen Part 1

Blaine was gone most afternoons that summer, sneaking out of the complex after breakfast and not returning until late evening. Every night the flushed boy would come to Kurt's bedroom with tales of shiny figures with unremarkable names. It was never the same person but always the same situation.

The flush that had blotched Blaine's cheeks after his encounter with Selene now spread to his neck, ears, and eventually his entire body. Kurt was certain that Blaine was trapped in a never-ending fever and often fought with his friend over whether he needed to see a doctor or not.

By late summer it seemed Blaine was doomed to forever be ensnared by the heat flowing through his veins; the same heat drove him down to the bowls of the Capitol more often than before, seeking relief in the shadowy homes of strangers.

Kurt took refuge in the Senate and in his father's office. Since he was no longer occupied with Blaine's silly ideas, Kurt deemed it productive to learn the rituals of his future occupation.

Kurt found Aten that summer in-between two white pillars in the atrium leading to his father's office. The boy was beautiful; he was so much more glorious than anything that had ever come before and might ever come in Kurt's life. He encircled Kurt with his strong and experienced arms and took him away from the duties his family and position were imposing upon him.

Aten did not force anything on Kurt. He listened to him, talked with him, and held him as he cried. Kurt gave all his trust to Aten and told him about the fears and hopes that lurked in his soul, fears and hopes he had not yet shown to Blaine. In return Aten told Kurt of his family; how he was shunned for moving to the Capitol instead of running his family's farm. He then proceeded to regale the teen with the complex acts of revenge he took upon these evil characters that were painted before him. Kurt was amazed at the courage and self-confidence possessed by this man; he wished he could be so sure of himself.

Kurt did not pose any objections when Aten suggested that they start meeting at his stylish, uptown, government sponsored apartment. Aten did not push him into anything; they would sit on the couch until early morning drinking tea and talking. One morning, as the sun cast its fuzzy golden glow over their bodies, Kurt leaned across the couch and kissed Aten; the teen gave Aten permission to stop restraining himself.

Aten flipped Kurt over so the teen was under his body and attacked it with hot, open mouthed licks and bites. The teen let his body accumulate these badges because they signified that someone wanted him; his family only wanted his pedigree so he could one day take over their legacy and Blaine only wanted the his future but nobody had ever wanted just Kurt.

This trend continued for the next week; Kurt would spend his nights at Aten's apartment and return home in the late afternoon the next day, just as Blaine was returning from his daily trysts in the city. Blaine's eyes were glazed over and he was too caught up in his feverish delusions to notice this new pattern in Kurt's life. He did not notice the bruises and bite marks that marred Kurt's ever-fair skin when his clothes would ride up around his wrists or hips or how Kurt would wince when he gave the teen an affectionate pat on the shoulder. Instead, whenever Blaine ran into Kurt, he would regal the teen about his daily activities and then leave him for his own room.

Come the end of the week, Kurt packed a small overnight bag in preparation to spend the weekend with Aten. He had so many new books and ideas to share with the man and he was excited to hear Aten's opinion. Kurt practically flew to the apartment, entered through the almost always unlocked door, and poised himself on the couch as he waited for the man to join him. Aten walked out from his study; his eyes were hooded and his palms twitched at his sides. The man reached down and caressed Kurt's face before he covered Kurt's lips with his own.

"Wait, I do not want to do this right now. I want to tell you about this book I found in my father's office," Kurt complained while trying to extract himself from Aten's embrace.

Aten slithered in closer, effectively pinning Kurt against the wooden back of the couch. "What about my wants. I want you," he retorted in a husky voice.

"You have my attention! Can we just please have conversation today. I really do not want you to touch me right now, I am in a lot of pain," Kurt pleaded. The statement was amplified by the honest tears collecting below his eyes.

Aten pulled back from the couch. "I do not want to converse. That is all I do for a job is converse. Debate ideas that will be worth nothing by the time I am dead! I want something tangible. That is why I want you," he yelled in Kurt's face.

Kurt gingerly got up and collected his bag. He began to walk toward the open apartment door. Aten grabbed his wrist in a vice-like hold. "Where are you going," the man demanded.

"You cannot hold onto me," Kurt said as he looked down upon the pathetic, fallen creature, "I am not a tangible object." Kurt then shook off Aten's hold like he was shaking off a pesky bug and left the room, not bothering to slam the door. The world did not need to hear of what had transgressed.

That night found Blaine sitting at the foot of Kurt's bed. One of the people he had met that day had given him a book. Blaine went on for ages about how they were the most beautiful librarian he had ever seen; he compared them to an angel standing between the bookshelves. Blaine paused his story upon this metaphor and looked at Kurt, truly looked at him, for the first time in ages. He handed Kurt the book and said, "I skimmed the book on my way back. I would like you to read it and tell me what you think. It has been a long time since I have heard your voice."

Kurt smiled at his friend and took the book from his hands. Blaine patted Kurt's arm gently and then retired to his own bedroom. Kurt read the book until the early hours of the morning; the characters tugged at his heartstrings and left him feeling bare and cathartic by the end. Over breakfast Kurt discussed these feelings with Blaine and his friend took the time to sit and enjoy Kurt in his element.

What Kurt has dubbed 'Blaine's fever', broke in the middle of fall, when the wind was consistently chilly, relative to the Capitol's usually stifling heat, and the rain had returned. Blaine had found Selene again and for the past week she had brought him to her place for tea. Apparently tea was the cure for Blaine's fever because by the end of the week the teen had entered Kurt's room pale and tired. He curled up on the plush armrest in the corner of the room and spent the night just watching Kurt sleep.

As the morning sun fell through Kurt's window in thin strips between the bed and the chair, the two boys gazed upon each other. "Here you are," Kurt whispered. There was no use in asking why; Kurt could see the renewed vigor in Blaine's complexion.

"Here we are," Blaine corrected as he stood up from the chair and walked into the light, closer to the bed.

"Where do we go from here?" Kurt questioned, hoping Blaine once again knew the whims of the universe.

Blaine looked out the window, a contemplative expression passing over his face. "Forward, upward, I have a lot of ideas but I would like to discuss them with you," Blaine said.

Kurt removed himself from the night chilled covers and joined Blaine in the sunlight. "This is new," he pointed out.

Blaine smiled at his friend, "Not new, just different. I woke up from these fever dreams. I changed."

"We have changed," Kurt corrected, "for the better."


	6. Teen Part 2

Large flurries coated the boys' military grade winter jackets as they walked up the hill toward the home. Blaine was slightly ahead of Kurt; he was dancing or more often sliding over the icy street. Snow was a very rare occurrence in the Capitol and it seemed as though the city had stopped any serious work to celebrate the novelty.

Kurt stopped under an elderly maple that was so heavy with snow, its branches bowed down to kiss the street as if to pray for deliverance from the blizzard. Kurt patted the tree fondly and whispered to its trunk, "It is futile old friend; the storm is its own master. Only it can decide when to give us mercy."

"Or its lover can decide," Blaine added, coming to stand by his friend under the protection of the tree.

Kurt blushed at Blaine's forwardness.

"What do you mean?"

"I speak of the wind of course. It guides the storm when it is happy and becomes an overbearing harpy when scorned."

"Stop personifying the weather; you should quantify it through science not emotion," Kurt retaliated.

"Says the man talking to a tree."

"I am sorry; I am just a boy then. This topic makes me uncomfortable."

Blaine grabbed Kurt's shaking hands, rubbing them between his own for warmth.

"Love makes even grown men uncomfortable." Blaine pulled off his gloves and handed them to his friend. "Next time it snows do not forget your gloves. Your hands are too delicate to be frostbitten."

Kurt huffed in annoyance. "First I am a man and now I am delicate! I will show you how delicate these hands are!"

Kurt picked up a chunk of snow and shoved it down the other teen's jacket before running away. Blaine chased him down the street, stopping intermittently to pick up icy ammunition. The two teens did not stop their game until they reached the safe confines of their complex.

The young men kicked off their soaked boots and hung their jackets before settling in front of the ballroom fireplace. The two friends sat in companionable silence until Kurt exclaimed, "I left your gloves under the willow tree! We have to go back."

Blaine pulled Kurt back down onto the cushions they had piled together from the furniture in the room. "It is ok Kurt. It is too cold outside to go looking for them. We will find them another day or someone who really needs them will. Besides, who needs gloves when you can just hold my hands?"

"But people will gossip" Kurt tried to protest.

"Then let them entertain such frivolous thoughts!" Blaine said, cutting Kurt off. "There is nothing wrong with two friends holding hands."

Kurt rose once again and said rather forcibly, "I do not want to have this conversation right now!"

The boy then turned heel and fled from the ballroom. Blaine watched his retreating form flicker in the firelight until it was no more and all he could see were shadows playing across crystal mirrors. Blaine shifted his gaze back to the fireplace and sank down into the cushions, humming a waltz he had planned to coerce Kurt into dancing with him that night.


	7. Teen Part 3

The sun cradled Kurt in its warm embrace as he drifted in a spacious rowboat across the lake. Blaine and he had been sent back to the Court for the summer to re-experience life outside the fast paced and dramatic city.

Water, dark and shiny, left gentle kisses against the side of the chipped and bleached hull of the boat as if to soothe away the pains collected from years of use. As a young child, Kurt would take the boat out and pretend it was a spaceship; the shiny lakebed rocks glittering in the sunlight were far off stars. Sometimes a colorful bird would land on the prow and look at him quizzically, as if wondering how such a bright and creative young boy could be so alone. Kurt knew the answer, not that he ever spoke it aloud; no other children wanted to get in the lake and swim out to meet him because they were too comfortable on the shore.

The boat rocked slightly, disturbing Kurt's nap. He sat up, pushing his lengthening blond hair away from his eyes with a well-tanned hand. Ghosting under the water was a dark and mischievous figure. Kurt picked up a few stones that had found their way into the bottom of the boat and threw them near the disturbance. Said figure burst out of the water and swam toward Kurt's boat.

Laughing, Blaine grabbed onto the roughened side of the boat, rocking it gently back and forth. "Come into the water," he pleaded.

"I have not planned on swimming today," Kurt replied.

"Well I never plan on swimming; I just do it when it feels right."

"What if there is no water to swim in?" countered Kurt.

"Then I pretend, I am very good at pretending," Blaine said while giving a small smile and shrugging his shoulders.

Kurt noticed how water droplets glided down his friend's arms in search of their home. He swallowed thickly; the sun had unknowingly parched him during his nap. "I have noticed," Kurt replied.

"Well I want you to pretend something for me right now," Blaine said, trying to stop a mischievous grin from splitting across his face.

Kurt raised an eyebrow and composed a more skeptical expression but decided to humor his friend, "What am I pretending?"

The grin broke free as Blaine yelled jubilantly, "Pretend that you are prepared to swim!" Blaine then tipped the boat far enough that one of its rails went into the water and Kurt tumbled out, his fall broken by the lake.

Kurt was falling through the water, past murky shapes and lake grass until he came to rest on the lake bed. The teen nestled himself among the rocks. From this vantage point they no longer looked like stars. He really had not wanted to swim today, nor ever. Kurt was scared of being in the water; he loved gliding over it whether by boat or aircraft but the mere thought of having to enter a body of water made his heart clench. People died in water and were lost forever; like he would soon be if he did not rise above the surface.

A force tugged on Kurt's hand, pulling him upward. He grabbed onto the body above him and let it carry him to the surface. Blaine pulled Kurt into the air and let him cough and sputter over his shoulder until he regained his breath. The two teens stayed there for a few moments with Blaine gently wading to keep them afloat and Kurt focusing on breathing.

A warm breeze buffeted against the teens, twirling them around as if they were dancing some strange aquatic ballet. Blaine's back bumped into a patch of lilies; the leafy parts of the flower became uncomfortably attached to his back. Kurt pushed himself away so he was an arm's length from Blaine; he became suddenly interested in the pond fish swimming beneath there feat.

"I should get the boat," said Kurt.

"Are you okay?" questioned Blaine, "What happened back there?"

"Nothing happened, I was just surprised. I was not prepared to get in the water; thank you for helping me," Kurt said as he began to swim in long strokes toward the now righted boat.

"There's a difference between being surprised and completely freezing up," Blaine yelled after him.

Kurt ignored Blaine in favor of climbing in the boat and stripping down to his shorts. He then flopped down onto the bottom of the boat, closed his eyes, and began taking deep breathes in an effort to calm his still racing heart. The boat tipped to the side again and Kurt scrabbled to grab onto the railing an effort to stay out of the water. Something grabbed his hands and settled at his side.

Blaine's soothing voice filled Kurt's ears. "It is ok; it was just me climbing into the boat. I am not going to make you get into the water again," he said softly.

Kurt opened his eyes only to encounter Blaine's concerned face. Blaine was rubbing his thumbs over Kurt's hands and whispering soothing words to calm his friend. Kurt sat up and put his head between his knees to quell the sudden onset of nausea. Blaine's hands moved to Kurt's shoulders in an attempt to rub the tension out.

After some time Blaine dared to speak again. "What happened when you were underwater?" he questioned.

"I got scared," Kurt said in a choked whisper, "I am afraid of being in and especially under the water. My body just shuts down."

Blaine looked ashamed as he apologized, "I am sorry; I should not have surprised you like that, my actions were reckless and impulsive."

Kurt looked up at Blaine. "You cannot help your nature," he teased.

Blaine smiled, "Do you want me to tip this boat back over?"

Kurt lightly pushed Blaine across the boat while protesting with a string of nos. The two teens laughed at their antics. They then settled at the bottom of the boat and spent the rest of their afternoon talking and resting beneath the clear blue sky. They did not get up until the boat nudged against the shore, having been carried there by gentle ripples. They pulled their vessel back into storage and then raced back to the mansion for dinner.

That night the two teens curled up under thin wool blankets on a swing bench on the lake's shore. As Blaine regaled him with a fairytale of a tribe of fish people who had lived at the depth of the ocean, Kurt gazed out to the center of the lake. Blaine was the person Kurt had always wished for, the friend who would swim out to his boat but in return Kurt would be forced into the water. Maybe none of the children in his past would be friends with him because they had no way of making it out to him; they were probably just as afraid of the water back then as he was now.

It was time Kurt stopped fearing the water and embraced the fact that on some level he knew that it would someday lead to his death. For now he had Blaine to support him, even if he was the one who forced him into the water.


	8. Teen Part 4

Kurt could never determine Blaine's relationship with his uncle. Blaine had come under the Senator's care a month before he met Kurt. The Senator was a close friend of Kurt's family, having grown up with Kurt's mother. Thus it was logical that he lived near them for he had very few friends.

When Blaine came into his life, the Senator became upset and put more time into his work. Maybe the change in behavior was because of the loss of his sister and her husband or the newfound responsibility but Blaine never inquired. Blaine and his uncle had an agreement from the first day of their co-habilitation. As long as Blaine kept out of trouble, he could dream up countless adventures without the Senator's supervision. This arrangement worked well for the first few weeks; Blaine would explore the labyrinth gardens of the Court, the estate of the Prime Minister, but the boy was lonely. Blaine imagined having a friend to accompany him on these adventures, another boy who knew how to strategize, explore, and laugh; someone who could provide structure for his chaotic life. Then Blaine found Kurt in the labyrinth.

His uncle never knew about Kurt or at least about Blaine's friendship with the boy. If would seem logical that the Senator would know his closest friends had a son. The boys' friendship was not exposed until a few years later, the first time Blaine broke the agreement with his uncle.

One day, on the cusp of becoming a teenager, Blaine had promised to be home by the early evening but did not return until late at night, the boy spun a tale about taking Kurt to the fairgrounds to have his future foretold. Blaine then went on to tell the Senator about his plans for a grand space adventure.

The Senator was worried for Blaine. He did not believe boys Blaine's age should spend their time fantasizing about great adventures; he surely did not as a child. The older man thought it would be more sensible for Blaine to find an academic or athletic interest. The Senator began spending long overdue time with his nephew, trying to impart logic and common sense in an attempt to shape the boy's future.

Eventually, the Senator had to return to work and once again leave the boy on his own but the man hoped he had restored sense into his nephew.

Blaine returned to Kurt immediately. They spent their first night reunited watching the stars glide across the sky.

When the Prime Minister's family decided to move closer to the Capitol in order to spend less time traveling between there and the Court, the Senator and Blaine logically followed.

The Capitol was new and exciting for Blaine; there were many more prospects for adventures with his friend. As the boys grew into their teens, the amount of time Blaine spent with his uncle dwindled. Their weekly dinners became monthly and any talk of Kurt had been non-existent for years.

Blaine never made any close friends at the Capitol, nor did he care to because he had Kurt. Now almost a young man, Blaine had many adventures in his life resume and eventually a few trysts but nothing he did was ever serious. Kurt reasoned it was because with his parents dead and his uncle so distant, no one had ever taught Blaine how to have any type of positive relationship. Blaine's closest relationship was to Kurt because he was everything Blaine needed him to be and always would be that. He did not need parents or the Senator. At least that is what Blaine fervently told himself but Kurt knew there would always be a part of his friend who craved the parental approval he could not find in others.


	9. Teen Part 5

Blaine was tired and frustrated with life. It did not help that he was stuck in a room, an enclosed box, with no ceiling. It was raining.

He could have tried climbing out of the top or calling for help but it was not worth the effort. The best option seemed to be for Blaine to huddle in the corner and pretend it offered him protection. Blaine cursed the short sleeves of his green coat; it had seemed logical to buy the fashionable piece at the time but now he wished for the one his uncle had chosen, a woolen brown coat with long sleeves and a hood. There was nothing to be done about it now.

A low thrum reverberated through the walls and into his skull. It was rather bothersome. 'Maybe it is a flying machine come to take me away' hoped Blaine but he did not look skyward to confirm his wish. Some rain could get into his eyes and blind him. It was safer to keep his head down.

The thrum became louder until it was directly overhead. Blaine heard the whiz and whir of complex mechanisms at work. The rain stopped, the noise died away, and Blaine felt it was now safe to look up.

A thin blanket, a dull gray-brown in color, covered his box. He did not want to leave now, he could not afford to.

Suddenly the walls were leaving him, or he was leaving them. It was all very confusing. They seemed to melt, fade, fall away, and retreat at the same time. It was so hard to tell because he was spinning, falling in every which way, curling into himself, and standing still as this happened.

An impossible thought entered his mind. 'Maybe there is not a same time but overtime. Surely if I had been looking, I would have seen this happening sooner, I could have prevented it. Oh how I wish I had my blanket to protect me from whatever is to happen.' Blaine shook this thought from his head; it took up too much space and time.

Blaine took a moment for himself. He held onto it tightly, used it as a buoy in the ocean of life. The ocean tasted cliché and was very wet. Blaine let the moment go.

He was in a box, a different color but entirely the same as the last one. It was raining.

Then Blaine woke. He had fallen asleep watching the stars with Kurt on his balcony. The itch to explore the cosmos above had become a steady burn through his veins. He could no longer look skyward without feeling pained from the longing in his heart yet there was nothing he could do about it. Blaine did not possess the means to reach the stars; all he had was Kurt.

Blaine turned his head, wincing as cool stone came in contact with his cheek. Kurt was curled around himself, wrapped in the blanket they had spread beneath them earlier; his friend had stolen his blanket but that was ok because Blaine would give Kurt anything. The now awake young man reached out to push stray hairs off Kurt's face. His friend shifted and opened his eyes slightly; Kurt gave a sleepy smile when he realized it was Blaine invading his space. Blaine made his decision.

"I think I know what the universe wants of me…of us," Blaine whispered, "You will think it is foolish but please listen."

Kurt nodded and gave a small, throaty hum to encourage his friend to continue speaking.

"Tomorrow we will go downtown and recruit crewmembers, find a pilot, and obtain a ship. I want to be among the stars by weeks end," Blaine stated.

Kurt turned over and snuggled farther into the blanket. "Sure, tomorrow. Get some sleep Blaine," he replied.

Blaine was uneasy by how easily Kurt brushed off the most monumental decision of his life but he was tired. Tomorrow might happen or he might end the day still without a way to reach the stars but he had Kurt. As long as Kurt was a part of his life then his dream would happen. Kurt would provide the direction Blaine needed when his dream became a reality.

When Blaine woke the next morning his body ached and he had developed a cold from the awkward position and thin clothes he had slept in. He spent the day in bed, recovering from the abuses inflicted on his body. Kurt, who had left the room while the doctor was checking over Blaine, returned in the afternoon and spread the blanket he had stolen last night across Blaine's bed. He confided to Blaine that he felt guilty for stealing the blanket and then begged for his friend's forgiveness.

"There is nothing to forgive," assured Blaine, "I let this happen; I would rather be sick then to have had you suffer."

"My selfishness could have caused you to get hypothermia, I could have killed you," Kurt said as he fretted over Blaine.

"No, it is simply a cold! You could never kill me. You cannot control the weather and you cannot control the stupid decisions I make," exclaimed Blaine.

"I wish I could," whispered Kurt.

Blaine began to reply but his lungs were attacked by a coughing fit. Kurt fetched a glass of water and helped his friend sit up so he could sooth his battered throat.

"I talked to my father this morning," Kurt said, trying to change the subject, "He is giving us a portion of the Society's Galactic Fleet."

Knowing the manipulative ways of Kurt's father, Blaine asked "For what reason would he entrust an entire branch of the Society's defenses to two teenage boys."

Kurt bit his lip in guilt before giving Blaine an answer that the both of them knew was the one that would appear in the media. The actually reason for the Prime Minister's action would be kept between father and son for the time being. "There is a planet in the outer reaches of the Society that has been taken over by a neighboring system," Kurt said, "He wants us to reclaim the planet. I know it is not your great adventure…"

"It is perfect," Blaine assured his friend with a bright smile.

Kurt returned the smile, happy he had helped his friend. "If you are well enough, by the end of the week you will be among the stars," he says, bringing back Blaine's words from last night.

"We will be among the stars," Blaine corrected.

Kurt gave Blaine's hand a quick squeeze before exited the room to plan the mission. Blaine lay back down in his bed, pulling the blanket over his head. This was not the great adventure he had planned, it was Kurt's idea, but it was something new and different from the rest of his life experiences, at least he hoped it would be. Outside, the cool air that has nestled itself in all crevasses of the city the night prior was finally joined by a dirty rain that left trails of sediment and slime behind as it found its way to the ocean.


	10. Teen Part 6

A gentle but concise knock on par with the flapping of a hummingbird's wings was heard upon the door. The Prime Minister's wife opened her eyes, woken from a light doze on the recliner in her study. At the partially opened door stood Kurt. The woman noticed that his lips were drawn tight across his face and his brow was set determinedly over his eyes as if to shield them from showing truth to the world. Before the woman could think of anything to say to her son, not that she had anything important to say, he declared his purpose for interrupting her sleep.

"Mother, I am going on an adventure with Blaine!"

"You will be going nowhere with that boy!"

"I go everywhere with him and this time he asked me to see the stars."

"No, absolutely not! You do not know what it is like out there, it is dangerous. The universe has changed since my day."

"Things always change; the world becomes more dangerous every day. That does not stop us from leaving our own homes, from meeting new people, from living."

"Until traveling becomes safer…" Kurt's mother started saying.

"The safer it gets, the more the danger heightens," Kurt interrupted.

"And then it becomes even safer!" his mother finished with a bright smile.

"The dichotomy will always remain but the methods will intensify."

Kurt's mother stood up in rage. "Words! Tongue tying complex words that are only wisps of smoke. I recognize their musky scents but I cannot place their origin. Why do you use such words?"

"Mother, if you left the house once in a while, took in some fresh air and enjoyed the institutions for academia then those wisps of smoke would be fires of passion for knowledge!"

"It is not safe to go out too long. There has been a string of pick pocketing on this hill alone. Three times in the last year! Who knows what is waiting beyond that!"

"Mother, I have to take this risk. I want to travel to the stars."

"Not this again! Why cannot you stay here and be my precious Kurty? Remember how we would pick roses together in the garden maze?"

"I never picked roses mother. That was you and your garden society."

His mother ignored him as she continued to reminisce on the false reality she was trapped in. "…and grew beans in that plot of earth under the kitchen window."

"They never did bloom, mother please." Kurt made his way toward the door, looking sadly at the state his mother had worked herself into because of the years worrying about having to care for her son, a challenge she could never face.

"Besides, I need you Kurty. Who will keep me company on the long summer days?"

"I am sure the pool boy would be more than willing."

"But he is not the same as you, my son."

"Of course not, that would be disturbing if Kurt and the pool boy were the same. I am leaving mother."

"So soon? When will you be back?"

"Later. Goodbye mother." Kurt shut the door before he could hear his mother's reply or let her coerce him into more tedious small talk. He had an important meeting with his crew after all.


	11. Young Man Part 1

Pausing before the bow viewing deck, Kurt analyzed the repair work on his battered fleet. Debris seemed to bump gently against the reinforced windows. Repair ships and ambulances bustled around the battlefield, docking on whatever was left of his best battleships, cruisers, and reconnaissance flyers.

"Tomorrow we will attack again." commanded Kurt to the senior officers lined up behind him.

One officer, an older gentleman, stepped forward. "Sir, they withdrew. We should be thankful for this grace period to recover and retreat."

"All the more reason we should attack them." retorted Kurt.

"The fleet will not be ready in time." pleaded the officer.

Turning to face his best and brightest face on, Kurt commanded "We do not need time to recover. Get everyone aboard the Ganymede. I want all the unsalvageable and heavily damaged ships welded together. We are going to tow the mass behind us, sling-shooting around the planet. I want a trajectory calculated to fling this debris through the planet's atmosphere and onto their main base of operations. "

Kurt walked toward the door when the same officer stepped in front of him. "With all due respect sir, your plan is very irresponsible. You are wasting some of the Society's best technology which is still salvageable on those ships. They are letting us leave peacefully. We need to recover and find another deserving world to add to the empire."

Kurt shoved the officer away from him. With a venomous tone he said, "You do not understand. I want that planet and I will exhaust every available option to get it until I do not want it anymore."

The officer spat on the ground. "You sound like a petulant child who did not get dessert!"

"No, I sound like a man with a dream to liberate every planet from the encroaching enemy."

"They do not want to be liberated! Look before you, they have shown us that!"

"No, they do not have the ability to ask for help. Every canon, laser, nut, bolt, and tissue in their arsenal is property of the enemy. The people behind the weapons, the ones who farm the food, make the clothes, and shine the shoes of the government officials who have been unhappily transplanted to this backwater planet, the hard working people want to be liberated."

"How progressive of you!" spat the officer "So you want to liberate the universe? How is our system any better?"

"It is not, but at least we live up to the ethics of our society. Our people know how they will be treated and can expect consistency. We do not preach equality and fluidity between classes and then deny it. We are liberating them into a rigid structure instead of back room deals and uncertainty."

"Well I think…" The officer began to object again before Kurt turned around and slapped him across the face.

"Unless you wish to be on one of those ships as it burns through the atmosphere, I suggest you occupy yourself with something unimportant; preferably waste management duty."

Turning to the other officers who were still standing at attention, Kurt barked "Back to your positions. I need to find Blaine; we have a flaming ball of space junk to make."

Kurt found Blaine but the man was of no use to him. Blaine had been injured and knocked unconscious during the battle. He was currently resting in the medical wing of the ship. Kurt quickly diverted his attention from his injured friend to the task at hand. He spent the entire night working with his team to instigate his wild plan while staying undetected by the planet's sensors.

His people were ready by morning. Kurt took his place on the bridge as the ship headed toward the planet. "We are approaching the dark side of planet, the projectile has an ETA of twelve seconds," said a young navigations officer.

Kurt reclined at the head of the war desk, silently watching the holographic projection of his ship's flight around the planet.

"Disengaging the fiery ball of space junk, pardon the phrase sir." The officer looked back at her superior with a tiny smile just as the holographic ball passed over Kurt's head and entered the planet's atmosphere. A flaming tail arced across the southern hemisphere of the planet, breaking the atmosphere, and crashing into the huge complex that housed the deadly laser cannon.

"Contact whoever is the most important person on the planet, I want a live video negotiation with them in five minutes in my private quarters."

"Yes sir!"


	12. Young Man Part 2

Exotic dancers in a multicolored bonanza of garments displayed their bodies for willing customers. Others were coupling with various dignitaries on plush, wine colored mounds of pillows behind gauzy curtains suspended from the gilded dome ceiling.

Blaine and Kurt followed a cotton white boy, who blushed whenever a dancer would sway to close to his sight. Studying the marble tiles, the boy gave a lame jerk of his hand toward a table where a smug, middle aged man sat. The boy then shuffled off, skirting the giggling voices and low moans emanating from behind the lusty veils.

The man was seated at a low oak table piled high with brightly colored fruits and thick cuts of animal flesh. Dancers of both sexes prostituted their bodies in front of him and clung onto every inch of his skin like garish burs.

"Good evening, I am the most important person on this planet as you requested but you may call me the General." The seedy man said while giving a sickly sweet smile. "Do you enjoy what me planet has to offer?" he then questioned.

The two men looked at each other before Blaine spoke "There seems to be an overabundance of physical pleasure in the palace."

"There is nothing wrong with pleasure," the General retorted.

Patiently, Kurt explained, "You are right, but too much and the body becomes numb and your actions to repeat such a feeling become sicker and riskier.

Blaine added, "Pleasure and happiness should be available to be attained by everyone, not horded for oneself. It is like a sugar overload, too much and you become sick from an illness that is difficult to cure."

"Of course you will find our empire addresses the general happiness of the people. Something we extend to your planet now that you have agreed to align the planet with the Society," Kurt said, referring to their earlier negotiation, "but tonight is for celebration, not politics!"

The General held up his crystal goblet of bubbly Champaign. "A toast, to the Society and her youthful rulers. May their blood never spill on soil and may they encounter clear skies and bright stars."

After offering the customary acknowledgments, the three men settled into a silent meal punctuated only by the noises produced by the activities of the other attendees. As the sun set and light no longer filtered from the windows of the grand ballroom, the General excused himself to his quarters with his harem. Kurt and Blaine dismissed the remaining dancers.

Blaine grabbed Kurt'ss hand so he could drag him to the far end of the ballroom and out onto a large porch overlooking the lush citadel gardens and the barren lands beyond.

Blaine ungracefully flopped down on satin pillows gratuitously place on a plush recliner. Kurt moved to the railing, observing the greenery, reflecting pools, and white peacocks strutting below in the moonlight.

"Kurt, join me in relaxing," Blaine pleaded but Kurt continued staring off into the distance. When Kurt did not respond, Blaine tried goading him into conversation, "These people are ridiculous, living in their own manure of pleasure and lust."

Kurt turned around to face his friend. "I dislike lust, sweaty bodies exchanging fluids, creating massive endorphin releases."

"Your description of making love is very poetic."

"Lust is a facet of love but love is also an intellectual partnership and an emotional investment. The result of lust is just the interest you collect."

"Your skills for describing the human condition continue to astound me. Dearest friend, have you never had a lover?"

"Blaine you never leave my side, or I never leave yours. The only person I have had the chance to love is you."

Blaine threw a pillow at Kurt's head to distract his friend from the blush ghosting his cheeks. Kurt pretended to be wounded, sinking to the marble floor in mock hurt.

"Treason! You have killed your lover!" laughed Kurt.

"I am not your lover!" sputtered Blaine.

"But you are the only person I know who is my intellectual equal and fully compliments me. You are the only person I would give my life for. As long as I have you, I have an empire. Our lives are intertwined. They say Kurt is the leader of men but remember the queen who could not tell us apart? If Kurt is the leader of men than so is Blaine for Blaine and Kurt are the same. You are the person, the idea, and the concept that I love above all else. That makes you my lover."

Blaine pulled his friend next to him on the recliner. His breath was coming out in shallow draws and he refused to look at Kurt as he said, "No, it makes me your beloved." Turning to look at Kurt's soft expression Blaine pleaded, "Please let me be your lover!"

Blaine then kissed the other man chastely on the lips. Kurt quickly pulled away.

"You have had too much wine," Kurt protested.

Blaine ignored him in favor of distributed kisses down his neck.

"They will see us!" Kurt whispered.

"They are too busy with their lust," Blaine retorted.

"I have a certain image to keep for the people!"

"When will you stop making excuses?" Blaine whispered in his beloved's ear.

Kurt could not think of anymore reasons Blaine should stop his ministrations. Each butterfly kiss made him feel warm and he desperately fought off the smile bubbling below the surface.

"I have no more excuses." Kurt returned the kiss Blaine had bestowed on him earlier.

The two men savored the stolen moment. Two tunics, one white and the other royal blue, fell to the warm tiles of the balcony.


	13. Young Man Part 3

"Everything has regressed!" Kurt yelled as he stormed into his father's study. His family had celebrated his birthday at breakfast. His father's parting instruction to Kurt that morning was for his son to return to his room where he had placed his son's final present.

Daedalus looked up from the newspaper with his eyebrows furrowed and lips pinched together. "What exactly has regressed my son?" he questioned.

"You have, the Society has!"

"Why do you say that? This is a new era of progress. We are one of the most advanced empires to ever exist," Daedalus said, his voice rising in pitch.

"Then why do we live by such antiquated customs?"

Daedalus set down the newspaper and gestured for his son to sit. Instead Kurt got down on his knees in front of his father, gently took hold of the man's hands, and stated firmly "You gave me slaves."

"Chamber men," Daedalus corrected, "Do they not please you?"

"I do not have a chamber father, I have a room. Those boys are slaves. You bought them as presents for me."

"You are of an age to have your own."

"They are just children and you ordered them to have sex with me. Do you not find that unethical and revolting in the slightest? Innocent boys and girls from backwater villages are shipped like cattle to be sold in the cities. Anyone with some loose change can afford a cheap whore. It is not just our morals that have become lost! If this is an era of progress then where are the scientists and the scholars? I see their bodies bloating and rotting in the bars and parties held constantly in the homes of the upper class, in our own house. We are the Society of rot and filth, not progress!"

Daedalus stood up, toppling Kurt, and briskly walked to the wet bar to poor himself a drink. He stood with his back turned to his son, fuming like a bull ready to explode out of his pen. With his last dreg of self-control the older man turned toward his son. "Insolent boy, I have dedicated my life to completely free the Society from the control of outside forces."

"Are we any better than them? We prostitute children from the same places. We give our technology a new face every few years but no one is inventing anything new. When was a breakthrough invention announced, when were equal rights last promoted?"

"I…"

"You do not know. A society truly separate from tyranny focuses on the rights of all people and promotes progress to improve the quality of life."

Somewhere a string snapped, a rock cracked, a dam broke, brandy shattered against the wood paneled walls, and his father yelled, "What do you want me to do about it!"

"Shift our focus. If this is your era of progress, announce a plan of action, do not just make this another excuse for a party to please the bodily needs of the elite. If you want me to expand your empire, you will do that."

Daedalus sat down in his chair once again to collect himself.

"I will make some calls today. Consider it done."

Satisfied, Kurt opened the door to his father's study. Daedalus held his hand up to stop the young man. "I cannot promise full equality for everyone immediately but the process will not be drawn out. The public needs to get used to the change; cultural norms need time to rise with the yeast. I will be upfront with the public beast; our society is based on being independent and better than those before us. Still, I proceed with this act more because I need you to inherit an empire you can be proud of. I need that more than I need my whores."

"I know father and I want those boys in my bedroom freed and educated. Should they desire, they can join my army in a few years; I will need their help when we bring distant cultures and worlds into our empire. Local knowledge is invaluable for my adventure."

Kurt slipped out of the room and walked down the corridor. Light from the large bay windows illuminated the stucco oatmeal on the walls. Glass mirrors sparkled with such intensity that Kurt did not see his smiling lover waiting at the end of the hall until he was right in front of him.

"Kurt! How did you enjoy your father's present!" exclaimed Blaine. He had accompanied Kurt to discover the Prime Minister's gift earlier.

"I found them most pathetic," said Kurt. The anger in his soul spilled out of his mouth and mated with his words.

"Do not be so harsh; your father was only trying to make you a man."

"I am already a man; I do not need to play with little boys' bodies to earn that title!" Kurt yelled as he stormed down the hallway leading to his rooms.

Catching up with Kurt, Blaine caught his arm and pinned him against the wall playfully. "I know that Kurt. I was just teasing," he said trying to reassure the smaller man.

Kurt continued to struggle against Blaine's strong grip. Blaine grabbed both his slender wrists in one hand and pinned them over Kurt's head. He then pushed his body up against the struggling man and closed the distance between their faces to mere millimeters. Blaine's voice dropped in pitch as he said "Listen to me, you have told courts across the Society that I am Kurt for I too am a protector of man. Why would I be for a practice that prostitutes the people I protect, especially if Kurt is not?"

Through gritted teeth Kurt whispered, "Because you are Blaine and like a warm body."

Blaine pushed Kurt harder into the wall. "I have only ever done so with willing bodies in the hormone riddled and heat fogged summers of youth. I never threw my money at those slimy rats in the brothels to use their wares."

"And I was just another willing body?"

"Listen to me. You are my lover, if I am Kurt, than you are Blaine. My body is dedicated to you because it is you."

"I will never own bodies, especially ones I will have to share when I am not looking."

"You will never have to share. The fog lifted long ago and floated away into the universe. I need you and I need you to need me."

Both men paused for a moment, their hot breath on each other's necks, hard muscle and soft skin pressed against each other.

"My arms are cramping," whispered Kurt.

"Do you need me?" growled Blaine.

"Do I need to answer that?" Kurt questioned but immediately regretted his words when he saw momentous hurt flash across Blaine's face.

Blaine pressed his leg in-between Kurt's thighs as he repeated his question as a plea, "Do you need me?"

"You are Kurt; you are a protector of people, especially of those he loves. I need you."

"Then get those boys out of your room so I can prove you are a man."

This time Kurt did not complain of the trials and tribulations he had to go through to earn that title.


	14. Young Man Part 4

On an early spring day of their young adulthood, Kurt and Blaine were taking on the daunting and domestic task of redecorating their rooms as per request of Kurt's mother. Kurt had appeared to be preoccupied and solemn during the task and when Blaine confronted the man about his behavior, Kurt left him surprised.

"I am leaving tomorrow," Kurt said, leaning against Blaine's bedpost.

"This is rather sudden. I will make some very important people rather unhappy when I cancel longstanding appointments on such short notice," Blaine said while reviewing potential color swatches.

"You are not coming with me."

"Since when, you never go anywhere without me."

"Exactly, I need to figure out who Kurt is when Blaine is not by his side."

Blaine nodded his understanding at the young man, grabbed one of his shaking hands, and kissed it. "Ok"

Kurt smiled in relief and scooted closer to Blaine. Sensing Kurt had something more to say, Blaine waited for him to speak. As he was debating the merits of a gold ceiling trim Kurt turned to him and whispered, "I am scared that without you I am no one."

Blaine hugged Kurt close. "Do not be daft, without me you are still the most brilliant and caring man in the universe. Maybe you would be a little lost and your sense of humor would be lacking without me but if it takes a soul searching trip for you to see the amazing man I see before me then so be it."

"Thank you," Kurt spoke softly, "for letting me go."

"As long as you return to me," Blaine whispered back.


	15. Young Man Part 5

The desert inhabitants of the Wastelands were welcoming and shared what little sustenance they had with Kurt. To repay them, he worked in their mines and helped carry water from far off wells to their reservoirs. He spent summer and fall among these hard working men and women, his skin becoming tanned, his hands calloused, and his muscles toned from the physical labor. With each physical change Kurt felt his mind become calm, organized, and sure. When he had learned everything he could about the Wastelands, its people, and himself, Kurt informed the community leaders of his intent to leave as soon as frost graced the expansive sand dunes.

Winter came late that year. On the fourth morning of the second week into the season, as Kurt exited his tent, he was blinded by a patchy framework of frozen dew that attacked what little area it could with its powerful light. As his vision adjusted, Kurt thought the sight looked much like watching the sun rise behind him but in the shards of a giant broken mirror that had been shattered against the sand at his feet.

As the desert people emerged from their dwellings, they shouted the news of the change in weather. Children ran about marveling at their frosted breathe and inspecting the miniscule ice crystals. Adults began collecting the frost in pots to melt and add to the underground reservoirs.

Kurt returned to the protection of his tent and navigated the haphazard maze of books and trinkets to find his travel bags. He spent the morning packing and accepting gifts from the many friends he had made. The sun had melted all the frost by noon but a chill breeze still raced through the air and attacked Kurt through his thin layers of clothing as people came and went from his dwelling. A particularly large gust hit him mid-noon, as the chief of the frugal community entered with his two youngest children. The ageing man made idle chatter with Kurt while the teens helped him pack; the family offered him blankets and food for his journey home. Lastly, the elder man offered Kurt a team of pack horses to carry his belongings and those of his children's to the Capitol.

Kurt questioned the father's choice to send his barely adult son and daughter to such an unfamiliar and daunting place but the man was not worried. He informed Kurt that his children were under the young man's protection now, a tradeoff for the elder man protecting and providing for Kurt when he came to the unfamiliar and daunting Wastelands.

Accepting the task, Kurt helped the two teens load their worldly possessions into the saddlebags, said a final farewell to the people of the Wastelands, and headed west. They stopped for the night in a small outpost at the foothills of the mountain range that separated the Capitol from the rest of the world. Kurt set the two teens up in a room at the local tavern and then settled into the bar downstairs with a data stream displaying newsfeeds.

By hid third drink Kurt felt sufficiently caught up on the events of the past six months and by his fifth the bartender returned with an incoming call pad for him. Kurt opened the screen to find the haggard but none the less beaming face of Blaine. Both men spent the first few minutes of the call just enjoying the sight of one another. Blaine had traded his curly locks for a shorter crop, his shoulders were tenser, and he seemed to carry the air of a man who had too much responsibility thrust on his shoulders too fast.

Finally Blaine spoke in a deeper, more measured voice than Kurt remembered, "Hello Kurt, it is good to see you old friend!"

"I am far from old. How did you know I was in civilization again?"

"I have eyes everywhere," said Blaine mysteriously, "You look well, much more relaxed than when we parted."

"Well you look like shit. What happened to you?"

"I had to take on extra duties in your absence."

"I am sorry."

"Do not be, it was necessary. I would do anything and everything for you."

Kurt smiled at Blaine's romanticism.

Blaine bit the corner of his lip self-consciously and blushed at his confession. It had been far too long since he had bared himself like that to anyone, especially Kurt. Eyes downcast, the tired man asked, "When are you coming home?"

"Within the week with my two charges. I have to wait for the next transport out of this hole."

"Charges?"

"Yeah, it is complicated," Kurt paused for a moment to collect his words. "In exchange for the hospitality of the community I lived with, one of their leaders asked me to take their two youngest under my wing and help them settle into city life." There was a brief silence over the call that Kurt broke by joking, "At least he did not ask me to marry one of them."

Blaine laughed, it was a rough sound but it was joyous and real and at that moment they were back to being young men. They spent the next few hours trading stories and jokes from their time apart.

The bar closed in the early hours of the morning. Kurt returned the call pad to the bartender after bidding farewell to Blaine. He then retired to his room upstairs.

Upon ascending the stairs, Kurt noticed the door to his room was ajar and the light inside was turned on. Carefully, he slipped into the room, prepared to face petty thieves or assassins but he encountered something much more frightening; his female charge was asleep on his bed in her undergarments.

Kurt gently shook the girl's tan shoulder to wake her. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she looked up at Kurt and apologized, "I am sorry for falling asleep. I though you would be back sooner to sanctify our union."

A nervous laugh bubbled from Kurt's throat before he said, "Oh, well I guess I need to tell Blaine I spoke too soon," at the girl's confused look he continued, "You know your father did not marry you off to me. You are my charge which is like being under my protection; I am like an older brother."

"You are mistaken," the girl said earnestly, "I have been taught that to be put under someone's protection is equivalent to marriage." The girl slid her hands up Kurt's chest and pawed at the collar of his shirt. Kurt took note of dangerous proximity her face was to his.

"Then technically I also married your brother."

The girl's face darkened. She pouted, the jut of her bottom lip brushed against his chin. "Think of him as more of a domestic servant."

"By that you mean slave. I do not keep slaves," said Kurt as he pushed the girl away and back onto the bed before she could assault his lips. "I will not do this with you. Make yourself decent and head back to your room. I will wake you and your brother in the morning."

The girl spat on his shirt and said venomously, "You are just going to take us to the Capitol and leave us on our own or worse, sell us off to the highest bidder. You may not keep slaves but I bet you do not mind making money selling them."

"No, you are both my responsibility. Have you forgotten the man I am; am I not a friend of your people? You will live in my home and my people will set you up with a job or, if you should desire, the means to continue your education."

The girl sighed, eyes shut tight and lips pulled inwards. The gorgeous beast had run out of steam fast. She hastily put her nightgown back on and left the room. Kurt could hear her own door slam down the hall. As the sun rose, Kurt lay down on his bed and watched dusty pink motes of light swirl in the air above him. He noted the girl's beauty and fiery temper and made a resolution to employ her on his personal staff.


	16. Young Man Part 6

Sunlight streamed through the attic windows of the Manor. Kurt and Blaine had returned to the Court for a small vacation in which they reacquainted themselves with each other's changed characters.

Blaine lifted the white sheet from over Kurt's head on the hastily made bed in Kurt's childhood room. Dust motes danced above them and the honey baked sun slid across their bodies and illuminated all their best features.

"Can we stay here forever," Kurt mumbled into the pillow.

Blaine admired the man's face which was half pressed against the bed. Kurt's smile was relaxed and entirely happy with the world; his eyes were barely open but they were focused on Blaine. The sun brushed across Kurt's hair and Blaine let his hand stray against the warming locks. "Yes, but forever is only a day, then we have to leave," Blaine whispered.

Kurt hummed in acknowledgment and then turned over, nestled farther into the sheet. "Hold me," he demanded.

"Sir, yes sir," Blaine responded before pulling the man to his chest. He let one of his hands rest over Kurt's heart and the other stayed in his hair.

Kurt harrumphed but Blaine knew the smile was still on his lover's lips. "I love how you know just the right way to hold me," Kurt said.

Blaine responded by kissing the nape of Kurt's neck and pulling Kurt closer to him. "I think we need days like these," Blaine mused, "where it is just you, me, and the sun to keep us warm."

Kurt twined his hand with the one Blaine had covering his heart. The two men laid there for some time, listening to the sound of the birds that wintered at the Court.

The moment was not perfect; behind the birdsong was the clang and clash of far off construction. Their secluded hideaway was being exposed and encroached upon; the vast farmlands surrounding the Court were becoming houses, towns, and cities. As the Society expanded, more people wanted to be closer to the heart of it. They wanted to peer into the pulsing, bloody messy and scrutinize Kurt and Blaine's political waltz. There were very few places left where the two men could dance in private.

"Why do we keep coming back here?" Kurt questioned suddenly.

"I think because it makes us feel safe," Blaine mused, "why should not we revisit the places where we are protected from the world. I believe it is ok to hideaway once in a while, especially if you are with me."

Kurt was silent for a moment and removed his hand from Blaine's before questioning, "But who…or what is protecting us?"

Blaine extracted himself from his embrace with Kurt. The man sat up in the bed and twisted his body so he could open the attic windows. An icy winter breeze invaded the room, forcing the sun-warmed air out and encircling the two men's bodies. Kurt threw the covers back over his head and curled into a ball to ward off the cold. "Nothing is protecting us but the memories that we build up into castles and leave behind for new lands. Our castles weather and crumble but we can still revisit and encase ourselves in them."

Kurt wrapped the sheets tightly around his body before sitting up and closing the windows. He then turned to Blaine and smiled at him fondly. "That is a sweet metaphor but I think our castle is falling down. We have come back here too much and I do not want to become trapped in falling rubble," Kurt said.

"You will not become trapped, returning can only make your castle stronger," Blaine rebutted.

"Are we talking about real things or memories? Returning creates new memories but it also traps us in the old. We keep coming back here but this place is changing. This is no longer the nurturing lands of our childhood. It is growing up, as we have. We need to let this place lose its sanctity…its innocence and become its own place," Kurt said fervently, "One day there will be no castles to return to. I can handle that idea but I am not entirely sure that you are ready for it. This is the last time we come here, at least for a very long while."

Blaine's mouth fell slightly in shock and a small "Oh" wiggled past his lips. Kurt let the sheets fall from off his shoulders, straddled Blaine, and traced the man's jutted our bottom lip. "We can stay in this bed for the rest of the day though, right?" Blaine questioned.

Kurt smiled sweetly, "I did promise you forever in bed and forever is today," he said and then sealed his promise with a kiss.


	17. Young Man Part 7

The hall was decorated in white and powder blue streamers and cloths. The cheeks of the people dancing were flushed a complimentary rose from the heat of the setting sun.

A young woman in a distasteful velveteen wine dress held Kurt's attention in the center of the room. She spotted Kurt in the corner and smiled at him with her dull white teeth. Tomorrow he was to marry her, as he had announced at the banquet in honor of his birthday. It was a marriage of convenience; she would produce an heir for Kurt and her people would not go to war against the Society.

Kurt did not smile back at her but instead fled the ballroom and retreated to the quarters he now shared with Blaine. He ran into the bathroom and attempted to wash the taste of cheap wine and sugary cakes from his mouth. Banquet foot was always horrendous and overly sweet; it made Kurt's blood burn and clouded his mind.

When Kurt returned to the master bedroom, Blaine was cutting an imposing figure in the middle of the room. Kurt headed to the doors to close them; it would be better if unwanted people did not overhear the words to be exchanged.

"Why would you do this to me?" screamed Blaine once Kurt closed the imposing oak doors to his bedroom.

"You should be surprised, not angry," said Kurt calmly as he began picking up scattered clothes leftover from his and Blaine's private celebration last night.

"Surprised! Of course not. I should not be surprised that my lover, the man I have dedicated my life to, would decide to marry a common whore he has never met."

"Do not be crass, I am preventing bloodshed. It is either marry the princess and make her people our allies or go to war."

"We have let bloodshed happen before, why should we step in now?"

"Because it is our own people we are trying to protect. We are the protectors of men, women, children and everything in between that is under the rule of the Society."

"But is creating an alliance with an empire that does not agree with every ideal we hold true worth it? Is losing me in the process worth it?"

"Personally it would never be worth it to me, but as Kurt, as a leader, it is necessary."

Blaine opened the wooden slat doors to their balcony, letting the light of the waning moon glide across his figure. "I should never have found you. Then I would have saved you so much pain in this decision. You would have been free."

Kurt came up behind his lover, enfolding himself around Blaine. "You birthed me into this world and you told me once it was to show me freedom. I had freedom when I did not need to make choices. I was relatively comfortable curled up on my stone bench in the maze. Sure the winds would chill my body sometimes but I knew it would subside. Then some boy with too much sun in his eyes forced me into the tempests and I have been letting them push me around the universe for too long. Is that freedom, trying to grab hold of any warm body that has been caught up in the whirlwind. If this is the freedom you wish for me than it is a very lonely aspiration."

"Am I not a body you hold onto in the wind?" Blaine's warm tears were falling freely onto the black stone tiling.

"I do not believe I have ever been able to grasp onto you." Kurt let go of Blaine and walked back into the bedroom.

Blaine turned around with a new fury and screamed at Kurt. "So you are just going to leave me because you do not think you have me. I told you I needed you, you always talk about how we are one and the same. There is no tighter grasp than that!"

Kurt sat heavily on the plush comforter of the bed. "If I do not accept this contract than it is equivalent to a declaration of war. They will sabotage us from the inside, turn the people against me and when it happens I will be far away on a grand adventure, burned by your bright light."

Blaine sat next to Kurt and gently hugged him. "I will never burn you; I do not think I know how."

Kurt extracted himself from the embrace and walked toward the abused oak doors. "Just being you is enough for me Blaine. I will be back in before the sun rises; I have a contract to cancel and a delegation to escort out of the Capitol."

Kurt opened the door to the dimly lit hallway and smiled sadly at his lover, as if he was signing his very life away. Blaine returned the smile with one of his own, dazzling white teeth and full of happiness.

"Goodbye lover." Blaine whispered as the door closed. He then put away the clothes Kurt had neatly folded during their argument and got ready for bed. As his thoughts drifted off he remembered a piece of advice his uncle had told him; never go to bed angry with a lover. Blaine sighed, sad because he had to go to bed alone, no longer angry with Kurt.


	18. Young Man Part 8

Blaine was certain this was the lowest point of his life. Kurt's fleet had set out that morning to engage an intruding system in battle. The origin of this enemy was unknown; for the past six months their ships had mysteriously appeared and commandeered cargo ships and the smaller outlying settlements of the Society. At first Kurt had relied on the local governments and their police forces to solve the problem. When the invaders had started overpowering the police and working their way inward, Kurt had made the decision to present a united front but as of that afternoon, his fleet was missing.

Blaine had stayed behind at the Capitol, recovering from a stomach virus. He had a data stream open with up to the minute reports of the fleet's status as he lounged on the loveseat in his and Kurt's room. When the data stream had gone silent in the middle of an update, Blaine had stumbled in a medicated haze to his office. He worked late into the early morning, sending out scouting parties and scouring every bit of streamed data before Kurt's disappearance, looking for even the tiniest clue to his whereabouts. As the sun rose, Blaine's desperation and denial became anger; an all-encompassing anger toward the invaders that complimented the dull throb of pain and exhaustion. It had to be their doing somehow, even though the fleet had not even made it that far out in space yet. Blaine was ready to head out to the sector he knew those vile scum were hiding out in and blow up every single ship himself.

Then there was a blip in the stream, a small packet of encrypted data with a code only two men knew how to crack. Blaine remembered his morals, he remembered hope, and he remembered that Kurt had a small rash streak painted across his soul.

The blip was a message and a location; Kurt had discovered something, though he would not specify what, and it was magnificent. Due to circumstance, timing, and location, the fleet had to power down rather quickly to observe the phenomena; there had not been enough time to communicate that to Blaine.

Kurt continued on his mission. Instead of forcing the invaders out of the Society, he negotiated with them and his shiny empire expanded once more.

Blaine was furious with himself. Only Kurt could make him forget to keep the best intentions of the people of the Society in mind He would give up everything for Kurt at a moment's notice, even their relationship if it would keep him from disgracing Kurt.


	19. Adult Part 1

"We cannot be lovers anymore," Blaine said abruptly one morning during a working breakfast in Kurt's office.

Kurt set the papers he had been reviewing down.

"I was thinking that myself."

"Then you will understand that out relationship could be perceived as favoritism," continued Blaine.

"Well you are my favorite."

"But politically and in the workplace."

Kurt smiled gently at his friend. "Our workplace is the battlefield."

"And the Capitol," added Blaine.

"No, that is our prison."

"A prison we will never escape," Blaine joked.

Kurt leaned over his desk and grabbed the file Blaine had been casually perusing.

"We do escape it, every night and sometimes during lunch breaks." Kurt eyed Blaine's form, which was tense and ramrod straight in an oak chair.

"What if I want us to escape somewhere else, somewhere public?" Blaine shyly dropped his eyes down to his lap, where his hands were clenched and shaking. Kurt pretended not to notice this.

"Are you suggesting voyeurism when just a second ago you asked for an end to our liaison?"

"No, I am asking if we continue our relationship, we go public. I want to be able to escort you to public functions, have dinner out with just you, and hold your hand walking down the street."

"Ok," Kurt said while sitting back in his chair, fingers steepled.

"Ok?"

"Yes, ok, I am willing to give as much of myself as you want to this relationship. Just know I am giving your rendezvous mission to Edith Pustard. I cannot be showing favoritism now and I want you to myself for the next week. If you were gone, who would escort me to the upcoming masquerade ball?"

Blaine visibly relaxed and presented a small smile to Kurt. "Would you like me to inform Pustard?"

"Yes please."

Blaine leaned over the desk to give Kurt a chaste kiss on the cheek before heading toward the door.

"Also, be ready by seven. We have dinner reservations at that new seafood restaurant you have wanted to try," Blaine shouted over his shoulder.

"Trickster! You planned that entire thing!" Kurt yelled back merrily.


	20. Adult Part 2

"Western Society Belongs to the Future" read the headline on top of a stack of printed articles on Kurt's desk. Blaine slipped the paper from under Kurt's nose, crumpled it, and threw it in the corner of the office.

"If you insist on getting your news in print, at least subscribe to more moral sources, not this trash," exclaimed Blaine.

"No media form is moral but that is a discussion for another life," Kurt mumbled, his attention focused beyond the leafy bush outside his veranda.

Blaine sighed and sat down on the desk, ignorant of the fact that he was blocking Kurt's view of the outside world.

Kurt's awareness came back slowly; first his eyes lost their glassy sheen then his muscles tightened, ready to face the world. "What I meant to say," Kurt started to correct himself. He then paused, bit his thumb once, pointed at Blaine, and finished his thought, "is that I print my news so I can choose what I read instead of having that impersonal machine download the opinions of sensationalists and the small minded into my head."

"So you would rather elect to read the sensationalists thoughts then have them forced upon you?" countered Blaine.

"That is not what is important." Kurt's voice raised an octave. "I was reading that article because there is an ounce of truth in it. Our society, named just that by an era of straightforward scholars, will fall. People want us to invest in technology we do not have, half formed ideas, and intangible objects."

"Is not that the most lucrative type of investment?" Blaine smiled gently as he played with the spaceship model on Kurt's desk.

"You still do not understand. I do not want to invest in time; I do not want to start a technology war with other empires. That is not what I am meant to do!" Kurt replied angrily.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's hands, which had been tugging on his golden hair at that point. Blaine brought them down between their bodies and squeezed tightly, trying to anchor Kurt to his reality. "Stop acting like a child. You are disgracing your family name and everything you have worked for."

"I do not care about that!" Kurt yelled into Blaine's face.

"You are disgracing me!" Blaine yelled back.

Kurt opened his mouth in a snarl, as if prepared to throw insults at Blaine but when none came, he closed the offending orifice. The volatile man was flushed, a film of sweat covered his brow, and his hands shook between Blaine's larger ones but he was defeated; the angry monster growing inside him had burst into a thick dust that seemed to coat his lungs and weight down his heart. The earthy scent of the leafy bush outside circled around the two men, courtesy of a crisp breeze.

"I am sorry," said Kurt, his voice raw from the emotional outburst.

"Everything is ok," Blaine said, trying to brush off the past events and restore normalcy to the situation.

"No, it is not. That was not who I am back there, that was not Kurt but someone else."

"It was the voice of a scared man, a man only responsible for his life and not the lives of billions."

"A free man," said Kurt whimsically.

"A lonely man."

Kurt removed himself from Blaine's embrace to retrieve the crumpled article, which he smoothed, folded, and placed in his pocket. He looked back outside, the dreamy and relaxed expression once again taking up residence on his face. In a dazed voice he said, "I know the Society will want to hear my reaction to our neighbor's experiment and they will want a plan of action."

"I am sending a note to your secretary to arrange a press conference for this evening," Blaine said as he typed out said note on Kurt's personal data pad.

"No, not yet. I need to think over my stance."

"But everyone expects an answer soon."

"Just give me tonight and tomorrow morning."

"I do not know if I can. Let me talk to the press. If you want to tweak our stance then you can tomorrow. This way you have time to think and the public is satisfied," Blaine pleaded.

Kurt turned to the man; his eyes were still looking far off into the distance. If Blaine did not know better he would say Kurt was blind. "This time I do not think we will have the same stance dear friend. Just give me until tomorrow afternoon. Ignore the press; take until then off work, do something fun and relaxing. Have dinner with your uncle for the first time in forever."

Blaine was torn between obligation and his heart. The two ideals struggled within him and prevented coherent words from rising.

Kurt smiled sadly and said "Tomorrow is such a bizarre and wonderful place. Please wait, I may surprise you."

"I do not think I am ready for tomorrow," Blaine confided.

"We never are. Just let me sleep on this idea tonight and then I will tell you if I am ready for our tomorrow, the Society's tomorrow," Kurt said, his voice seeming more faded by the word. It was as if his very essence was falling and his pleas were echoing from the cavern of his body.

"I do not believe I will be ready for whatever you bring tomorrow. Today is wonderfully bizarre enough for me," Blaine said.

"You've changed," Kurt observed, "I am looking for the boy with luminescent dreams of tomorrow but before me I see a grown man with duties and schedules."

"I am sorry that I cannot be who you want me to be," Blaine said in frustration.

"No, it is my fault. I cannot be who you need me to be," Kurt whispered.

Kurt gave Blaine a brief by firm kiss on the cheek before floating out of his office. Blaine was left standing in the middle of the silent room. Dust moats dancing in the sunlight illuminating his fists.


	21. Adult Part 3

Kurt woke up tired, which defeated the purpose of sleeping. He decided there was nothing he could do about the day so he showered and got dressed. Breakfast was a regular and formal affair with a group of legislators trying to pass a new law. Kurt then took a personal call as he was walking toward the military's headquarters. His meeting with the head brass was slightly unpleasant and very unnerving. When Kurt arrived at his personal office, his secretary informed him that he had no more meetings for the day; all the visiting dignitaries had canceled. Kurt made another call, this time to his personal guard. Then he wrote a letter; Kurt ignored the yellow wax that had splashed onto his hands from a clumsy attempt at sealing the letter. It was not worth the bother.


	22. Adult Part 4

Kurt barged into the small office Blaine kept when they were at the Capitol. The young man made sure the oak doors slammed and the chair he violently pulled out left scratch marks on the paneling as reminders of his presence. Blaine looked up from the reconnaissance reports he was weeks behind on reviewing.

"What wonderful news have you been graced with dearest?"

"Enough with the names," Kurt fumed, "My personal assistant spat on me today!"

"A travesty of international proportions I am sure."

"They canceled all my meetings today and the military will not approve further plans for expansion. A group of legislators actually proposed we succeed into a neighboring empire and my aunt and uncle will not let me visit my young cousin on her birthday."

"I find it amusing that your greatest woe is being denied from a birthday."

"This is not the time for amusement!"

Blaine got up from behind his desk and went to rub Kurt's defeated shoulders.

"I know. Realize the other places have been enticing our people without resorting to propaganda. New frontiers are claimed to be found every day. This is what we have been looking for but not as actively as we could have. Expanding and conquering in space is limited but time is infinite. These governments are running a business, an empire. You need to change your tactics. Do you continue your great adventure or create a competing business?"

"My future has always been in the grand adventure you laid out before me. It is who I am."

"Kurt is also a leader of men. You have created a society of equal opportunity and movement between classes."

"No, I have set the wheels in motion for those events. We live on the edge of our known galaxy, what else can the westward bound do but progress in every aspect of life."

"They do what the future bound do not dare attempt. Define clear expectations for the ethics of their society."

"They think they are bound for the shiny future but they will become lost in the labyrinth of time and end up back at the start."

Blaine kneeled in front of Kurt and looked him straight into the eyes, as if he could convey the depth and sincerity of the next part of his message to the man through that contact alone.

"I found you in a labyrinth."

Kurt touched Blaine's smooth face. "Not everyone can have an Blaine to guide them."

"And not everyone can have an Kurt to give them strength."

"I do not know how to run the business of men, help me Blaine."

"Restructure the government; weed out corruption, set up an embargo against your enemies, a communications barrier if necessary."

"I am trying to make our society independent, not bring back the war we are perpetually on the brink of. Kurt is a leader at the negotiation table, not in the Senate and most definitely not as the Prime Minister's Office. My father still holds that role. I have looked too close at your shiny dream. You never prepared me for if I woke up and now I do not ever want to wake up."

"Kurt, it is not my fault!"

"Not directly but in your youth, your soul knew the tidal shifts of the universe and what needed to be done to create equilibrium. That gift lost its potency when you moved to the physical pleasures city life had to offer you."

"Are you mocking my intuition?"

"No, I am saying you changed to fit my needs. I was young, weak, and ignorant of the universe when you met me. You gave me purpose, a life. Once I was well adjusted to my purpose and all caught up in the higher ideals I could bring to the people, you became a more physical character, someone who could bring me to love touch as much as I love thought."

"The same can be said in reverse. You anchored me."

"The difference is you helped me first. Blaine is Kurt's center of gravity. When you change, I do too but you have pulled me in too close, I do not know how to change to fit you anymore."

The color drained from Blaine's cheeks at his friend's revelation. He had never realized how much he defined Kurt's life for he always believed it was Kurt who defined his. "I do not understand, how did this happen?" Blaine questioned.

"It is the result of the overly-illuminated dream of adventure and the sparkly romance you gave me; I have been blinded by them and I have forgotten who I am and what my faults are. I knew once, when I left you, but I cannot pull away from you for too long. So you see, I did not realize I am unfit to be the leader of my people until they already hated me."

"So what will you do?" asked Blaine timidly as Kurt began to approach the oak doors.

"End the dream." Kurt placed his small, ever fragile hand on the ornate door knob. Wax flaked off his hand.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's shoulders in an attempt to pull the man away from what awaited him in the outside world. "You do not mean that."

Kurt kept his eyes downcast. "I have my personal guards at the door. They have been ordered to keep you in this room until sunset. If I do not return by then, they are to recognize you as the new acting head of the Society."

Kurt opened the door and nodded to the soldiers waiting outside. Blaine tried to hold his friend back but the men caught his wrists to prevent him from moving.

"I am the secondary character; I am supposed to die first. You are supposed to weep for me!" Blaine yelled.

Kurt turned and looked into Blaine's eyes. Crocodile tears betrayed the peaceful look Kurt fought to maintain. Blaine managed to break free of the guard's grasps and took a hold of his lover's body.

"You have never been the secondary character. No one is supposed to die, it just happens. I am breaking us out of Homer's cycle. I am not an Achilles nor an Alexander and you are neither a Patroclus nor a Hephaestion. We are Kurt and Blaine; our lives are not tragic but practical and dramatic. We give the people dreams but we also give them structure."

Kurt twisted violently out of Blaine's grasp and began to stride down the hall. Blaine attempted to follow him but was once again restrained by Kurt's personal guards.

"Would you deny me a final kiss," shouted a desperate Blaine as he struggled in the arms of his captors.

"My life is my kiss to you."

With that Kurt's silhouette continued down the sunlit hall, obscured by the harsh rays searing through the windows. His white tunic fluttered in the wind and seemed to melt off him as he walked into the light and away from his dearest friend.

Blaine fell to the aquamarine tiles, his vision obscured by unstoppable tears and his chest pained by the momentous sobs escaping his throat.


	23. Death

With the maze behind him, Kurt realized the prophetic nature of his birth. He had reached the sun, looked upon its glory, and won a little for himself. He was now spiraling downward to finish his destiny. Maybe if he was lucky, and he was very lucky, a warm draft of air would lift him up and gift him one last glimpse of wondrous sunshine. As he left earth behind him at the edge of the cliff, Kurt looked up at the apex of his voyage and saw Blaine's infamous knowing smile. Kurt's body fell and was embraced by the ocean. No longer trapped by earthly constraints, he flew higher and higher, past the sun and onto the stars. Feeling no need to conquer them this time, Kurt thought just seeing them would be enough.


	24. Epilogue

The silvery figure of a young man appeared to him in the middle of the night. The man sat next to his prone form on the bed and combed his ghostly fingers through his friend's hair.

"You are not real," said the sleepy man.

"I am as real as you want me to be but I figure I have never been real; this life has never been real." The ghost smiled sadly

"I do not think I ever existed either," added the man.

"Our reality was defined by the actions we took and the conversations we shared."

"We had a messed up reality then."

"We had a good one." By now the ghost was embracing the man on the bed. The man curled into the warmth of his sheets.

"Why did this happen?" whispered the crying man.

"I think it was because of the faults we created for ourselves."

The man turned over and gave the ghost a quizzical look.

"We are born blank slates but we are also born lonely. Desperate for contact, acceptance, and love we change ourselves. Some people become outgoing, quirky, and kind while others become jerks, whores, and loons all in the hope that someone will notice. People like us create flaws within ourselves. Flaws create drama and when you have drama you have a story. People want to be a part of stories; they want to have a purpose, so they join you. They become characters. What we forget is every story must have a definite ending and then the characters stop existing. Sure they live on in the minds of their audience, living out lack-luster adventures at the whim of the controller, but that is not a true life. We have been characters in our story for too long and now we do not know how to be human."

"I miss who we were." Tears blinded the man's vision. He felt the wisp of lips kissing his hair. Before the man fell asleep he thought he heard the ghost speak.

"I have a new story now but there is still room for a friend in my cast."

Blaine had no recollection of these words when he awoke. He dressed himself, ate a small breakfast, and attended meetings about inconsequential matters.

The universe continued to spin the same as usual but forever changed.


	25. A Request

Hey Y'all. Thanks for all the hits. I would like to keep writing other stories so some reviews on my style and plot development and whatnot would be lovely so I can bring y'all even better material. Thanks lovelies!


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